


6– Thou Shalt Not Kill

by blackazuresoul



Series: Covenant [6]
Category: Trinity Blood
Genre: Blood, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:19:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackazuresoul/pseuds/blackazuresoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The Ten Commandments– laws or guidelines?</p>
<p>A/N: Obvious religious overtones and some liberties were taken with the interpretation of the Commandments. Darker slants have been firmly nailed into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	6– Thou Shalt Not Kill

Seven years I have waited to murder innocence– seven years of maddening restraint in the name of some twisted sense of forbearance towards a slip of a boy that the world would never have course to mourn. His death will be resplendent; I would have it no other way. Perhaps on deep red rose petals that mimic the stain of stolen virtue or against pristine silk that would greedily drink a spreading pool of waning purity; who’s to say?  
  
This child deserves nothing less than a perfect end.  
  
He tests me and I shall have him, his defiled corpse transformed into such deadly beauty as befitting the devil I profess him to be. A daemon unlike any I have conjured to serve me he is and will be and he knows this. Two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days have I ambled through his garden of temptation, and all the while he lures me to his own demise. He wants to die, wants me to violently take the last vestiges of humanity from his soul– an aphotic vessel– and I am all-too willing to comply with a child’s wishes. He calls me Master, a smiling acolyte that commands a Black Magus with nothing more than a spark of allure behind a criminal gaze. He disgusts me.  
  
My dulcet sin has the audacity to cry as I rape him, which adds to the aesthetic I so fiercely crave. His false tears taste sweet on my tongue, an sybaritic compliment to the flavour of the screams I sample from his beguiling lips. Nails open thin trails on my back, painting strange whorls with his grasping fingertips. I could crush him, tear out his throat, sate myself on his dying breath but he has snared me. He is too perfect to truly kill but as he gasps out his first orgasm, I content myself with the murder of the boy he was and embrase the creature I have created.  
  
He lies there, drawing stuttering breaths, his departed virtue staining the sheets beneath him and I laugh at the contrast between broad smears of blood and my come on his pale thighs. My pretty contradiction. His eyes finally open and it’s there I see my judgment. I have laid down with the devil and woke up in a beautiful hell.


End file.
